History Repeats
"Increase the extraction level."
The chair spins again, and Crais's head spins. He is dizzy not only from the physical motion and pain, but from the sickening sense of déjà vu. All he can think off is the last time he was here. A different room, a different leather-clad assistant, perhaps even a different physical device, but it's still the same place inside his head, over and over. Scorpius stands here as before, impassive and remote, the only element that has true significance.
The repetiton is all that his mind will focus on through the blur of images and his own screams. Crais is even beginning to wonder if he ever left, if everything in between has been a pain-induced hallucination.
"Sir?" Braca's voice, from somewhere far away, and the machine slows and stops. Crais isn't glad. The intervals between the pain are filled with a dread that is almost worse than the agony.
"Yes, captain?"
For a moment, Crais thinks Scorpius is talking to him, although he would not answer even if he could still form words. But no - he's not a captain any longer. He isn't anything any longer except a prisoner in a chair.
"I was only wondering how long your intended to - investigate Crais for. Surely now that you have Crichton, he is unimportant?"
Braca must be itching to put him on trial, Crais realizes, to hold him up to a set of rules Crais never truly believed in and find him wanting. He wonders what method of punishment Braca has decided to inflict on him.
"Have patience," Scorpius says, "I will place him in your custody as soon as I have extracted the information I need. There is an interesting blank spot in his memory - it seems that the destruction of the Leviathan hybrid precipitated him into another universe. I find that … interesting. He does not consciously recall the details, but I believe the Aurora Chair will break through the barriers in his mind eventually."
Scorpius is looking for some kind of link between Leviathans and wormholes - Crais should have known. Scorpius sees everything in terms of frelling wormholes, of which Crais knows little, and cares even less.
"For now, however, you may have the guards take him back to his cell. We may continue this tomorrow."
Anonymous hands unstrap him and lift him out of the chair. On the way in, Crais kicked and struggled although it wouldn't do him any good. He feels the impulse to do it again, although even he isn't sure what it is he wants to fight against now.
***
It's had to measure time in a cell, but by Crais's estimate roughly twelve arns pass between the time the guards throw him inside and the time the door opens again. Nobody brings him anything to eat - they have been starving him for days. Prisoners who are to take another turn in the Aurora Chair are usually subjected to such treatment, since Scorpius dislikes having the upholstery soiled.
Crais simply waits for the time to go by before the next torture session, contemplating ways to die.
It seems that Scorpius has this effect on him; both times before when he has decided to simply give up he has been under the half-breed's influence. The first time, he had lost his Command Carrier, his status, the respect of his troops, the sanctity of his memories. Death seemed both inevitable and inviting. Yet an opportunity for escape presented itself, in the unlikely form of Rygel, and he found himself struggling for life once more.
The time after that … is best forgotten. His fury at the futility of Talyn's death is too much to contemplate.
This time, he has no room to maneuver. He could have ended things easily enough in the days when he sat aboard that ship he no longer controlled, waiting to be court-marshaled and executed, but he had lacked the will. Last time, he had the will but fate had other plans. Now …
He can see the security cameras from here, no doubt they are watching him to make sure that he does not attempt to hang himself. The guards must be under orders not to hurt him too badly, even when he struggles.
No. He will not die until Scorpius and Braca want him to die, and that could be days or even monens from now. He knows that Scorpius tortured the Banik for cycles out of idle curiosity, and perhaps the same thing will happen to him. The gap in his memory is something he has resisted examining, but he knows that it is an empty place, devoid of useful information. This will not stop Scorpius from probing it until long after he drives Crais mad.
When the door cracks open, he forces himself into a sitting position, wishing to maintain that much control of himself, only to almost fall back again in surprise when he sees who it is.
"Bialar," Larell says. "Are you -?" she cuts herself off.
"Have you come to gloat?" he manages to croak. He's sure that she isn't meant to be here, but a tech of her abilities is more than capable of interfering with the security cameras.
She crouches down in front of him, and reaches into her jacket to withdraw a pulse pistol, expression unreadable. "No." A wave of relief washes over him. She's going to kill him. He would thank the gods his parents used to worship, had he ever believed in them. "I came to let you go."
Now he is truly surprised - and not so relieved. "I don't understand. Why would you -"
"He put me in his chair too, Bialar. Or did you forget? Nobody deserves such a fate. Not even you." Her face is grim, but there is something else in her eyes.
"The last time we met, you betrayed me to him."
She looks away, refusing to meet his gaze. "I have no loyalty to him, but … you betrayed me first. I thought that meant that you deserved to be betrayed in return."
Perhaps it is even true. He treated her appallingly in the days after Tauvo died; no wonder she was eager to turn him in to her new commanding officer, especially after he coerced her.
Not knowing how to respond, to thank her or berate her or apologise, he takes the pulse pistol from her unresisting hand. There is freedom here, of a sort, freedom he has been eager for, but -
It is probably what Scorpius expects of him, by now. There is no way out of this situation that he can see, other than this. And yet … Scorpius might be frustrated by the loss of his subject, but Braca, Captain Braca would be pleased. That alone is enough reason to keep breathing for now.
"I can't do much," Larell warns him. "I will let you out of here, but I won't risk my career or my life any further than that. Is there anyone here who will help you? I have enough rank to escort you elsewhere without anyone questioning me, if we're careful."
Aeryn has betrayed him, and Crichton as well, for reasons he doesn't want to contemplate. Crichton will submit to her wishes even so. There is only one place he can possibly turn for aid, only one person he can possibly trust.
"Take me to Teeg," he says.
The chances that they will make it out of here alive are almost non-existent, but perhaps he will be able to cause Scorpius more trouble before he dies. The thought drags Crais to his feet and out of the door.
The chair spins again, and Crais's head spins. He is dizzy not only from the physical motion and pain, but from the sickening sense of déjà vu. All he can think off is the last time he was here. A different room, a different leather-clad assistant, perhaps even a different physical device, but it's still the same place inside his head, over and over. Scorpius stands here as before, impassive and remote, the only element that has true significance.
The repetiton is all that his mind will focus on through the blur of images and his own screams. Crais is even beginning to wonder if he ever left, if everything in between has been a pain-induced hallucination.
"Sir?" Braca's voice, from somewhere far away, and the machine slows and stops. Crais isn't glad. The intervals between the pain are filled with a dread that is almost worse than the agony.
"Yes, captain?"
For a moment, Crais thinks Scorpius is talking to him, although he would not answer even if he could still form words. But no - he's not a captain any longer. He isn't anything any longer except a prisoner in a chair.
"I was only wondering how long your intended to - investigate Crais for. Surely now that you have Crichton, he is unimportant?"
Braca must be itching to put him on trial, Crais realizes, to hold him up to a set of rules Crais never truly believed in and find him wanting. He wonders what method of punishment Braca has decided to inflict on him.
"Have patience," Scorpius says, "I will place him in your custody as soon as I have extracted the information I need. There is an interesting blank spot in his memory - it seems that the destruction of the Leviathan hybrid precipitated him into another universe. I find that … interesting. He does not consciously recall the details, but I believe the Aurora Chair will break through the barriers in his mind eventually."
Scorpius is looking for some kind of link between Leviathans and wormholes - Crais should have known. Scorpius sees everything in terms of frelling wormholes, of which Crais knows little, and cares even less.
"For now, however, you may have the guards take him back to his cell. We may continue this tomorrow."
Anonymous hands unstrap him and lift him out of the chair. On the way in, Crais kicked and struggled although it wouldn't do him any good. He feels the impulse to do it again, although even he isn't sure what it is he wants to fight against now.
***
It's had to measure time in a cell, but by Crais's estimate roughly twelve arns pass between the time the guards throw him inside and the time the door opens again. Nobody brings him anything to eat - they have been starving him for days. Prisoners who are to take another turn in the Aurora Chair are usually subjected to such treatment, since Scorpius dislikes having the upholstery soiled.
Crais simply waits for the time to go by before the next torture session, contemplating ways to die.
It seems that Scorpius has this effect on him; both times before when he has decided to simply give up he has been under the half-breed's influence. The first time, he had lost his Command Carrier, his status, the respect of his troops, the sanctity of his memories. Death seemed both inevitable and inviting. Yet an opportunity for escape presented itself, in the unlikely form of Rygel, and he found himself struggling for life once more.
The time after that … is best forgotten. His fury at the futility of Talyn's death is too much to contemplate.
This time, he has no room to maneuver. He could have ended things easily enough in the days when he sat aboard that ship he no longer controlled, waiting to be court-marshaled and executed, but he had lacked the will. Last time, he had the will but fate had other plans. Now …
He can see the security cameras from here, no doubt they are watching him to make sure that he does not attempt to hang himself. The guards must be under orders not to hurt him too badly, even when he struggles.
No. He will not die until Scorpius and Braca want him to die, and that could be days or even monens from now. He knows that Scorpius tortured the Banik for cycles out of idle curiosity, and perhaps the same thing will happen to him. The gap in his memory is something he has resisted examining, but he knows that it is an empty place, devoid of useful information. This will not stop Scorpius from probing it until long after he drives Crais mad.
When the door cracks open, he forces himself into a sitting position, wishing to maintain that much control of himself, only to almost fall back again in surprise when he sees who it is.
"Bialar," Larell says. "Are you -?" she cuts herself off.
"Have you come to gloat?" he manages to croak. He's sure that she isn't meant to be here, but a tech of her abilities is more than capable of interfering with the security cameras.
She crouches down in front of him, and reaches into her jacket to withdraw a pulse pistol, expression unreadable. "No." A wave of relief washes over him. She's going to kill him. He would thank the gods his parents used to worship, had he ever believed in them. "I came to let you go."
Now he is truly surprised - and not so relieved. "I don't understand. Why would you -"
"He put me in his chair too, Bialar. Or did you forget? Nobody deserves such a fate. Not even you." Her face is grim, but there is something else in her eyes.
"The last time we met, you betrayed me to him."
She looks away, refusing to meet his gaze. "I have no loyalty to him, but … you betrayed me first. I thought that meant that you deserved to be betrayed in return."
Perhaps it is even true. He treated her appallingly in the days after Tauvo died; no wonder she was eager to turn him in to her new commanding officer, especially after he coerced her.
Not knowing how to respond, to thank her or berate her or apologise, he takes the pulse pistol from her unresisting hand. There is freedom here, of a sort, freedom he has been eager for, but -
It is probably what Scorpius expects of him, by now. There is no way out of this situation that he can see, other than this. And yet … Scorpius might be frustrated by the loss of his subject, but Braca, Captain Braca would be pleased. That alone is enough reason to keep breathing for now.
"I can't do much," Larell warns him. "I will let you out of here, but I won't risk my career or my life any further than that. Is there anyone here who will help you? I have enough rank to escort you elsewhere without anyone questioning me, if we're careful."
Aeryn has betrayed him, and Crichton as well, for reasons he doesn't want to contemplate. Crichton will submit to her wishes even so. There is only one place he can possibly turn for aid, only one person he can possibly trust.
"Take me to Teeg," he says.
The chances that they will make it out of here alive are almost non-existent, but perhaps he will be able to cause Scorpius more trouble before he dies. The thought drags Crais to his feet and out of the door.